


Short Story Collection

by SmilesMcGee



Category: Flight Rising
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-29
Updated: 2018-01-25
Packaged: 2018-09-20 13:30:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9493550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmilesMcGee/pseuds/SmilesMcGee
Summary: These are mostly responses to prompts, but will include all short stories!





	1. Jan (1)

“That was not a suggestion…” 

Jan’s gaze didn’t waver from the body lying prone on the ground beneath his hands. He reached into the bag next to him and pulled out a scalpel. 

“Did you hear me? I said-”

Jan grunted. He’d heard. _Step away from the body_ , the large guardian had said.

He had heard, he just hadn’t cared.

The dragon in front of him was almost gone, the victim of some sort of vicious attack and practically in two pieces. He plunged his hands back into the bloody mess of organs.

He heard the guardian say something else, but didn’t spare the focus to decipher what it was.

This was a mistake. A few moments later something hard collided with his midsection, and he was thrown away from the body. 

Jan blinked and stayed where he was for a moment, arm coming up to grip his stomach lightly. With a small huff he rolled and slowly began to push himself off the ground. 

“I told you to step away from the body.” The guardian stopped next to Jan, and watched him a moment before pulling a leg back and slamming it into him. 

The feeling was identical to the one moments before, so Jan decided they must have both been kicks. He coughed, grimacing into the dirt. 

“This isn’t your business.” Jan barely looked up in time to see the foot swing back a third time. 

“He’s going to die and you’re going to let him.” A hand reached down and dragged him up, grabbing tightly at his collar. 

“You shouldn’t have even stopped walking.” A fist this time, in the gut.

More fists, the side of his head, the stomach again, the chest, a fist pulled all the way back and slammed straight into his face. _Blood_. he tasted it this time, _That’s bad…_

He smiled again, forcing the corners of his mouth back up in defiance of the situation. 

That earned him another crack in the jaw, but the smile stayed in place. The guardian dropped Jan, who crumpled like laundry into a pile at it’s feet. 

“But honestly, I’m glad you came by. I was getting pretty bored.”

The next few kicks came in rapid succession with Jan’s aggressor showing no signs of stopping soon. Parts of Jan began going numb with searing pain until finally he blacked out all together. 

———-

“Are you okay?”

Jan blinked, and turned to face Var. “Hm?”

Var tilted his head slightly, “You okay?” He repeated.

Jan widened his smile, “Yeah. ‘Course.”

The other doctor’s eyes narrowed slightly. “You zoned out. Did you hear what I said at least?”

Jan shook his head, _Something about livers, maybe?_

His mate gave a small huff, “I said you should lay down and rest for a while.”

“And that it wasn’t a suggestion.”


	2. Floorwalker and Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Context:**  
>  Fire tends flames in the clan. The majority of flames in the clan are located in the Los’aak, and most of those are in the kitchen section of the building.  
> As a result, he spends a fair amount of time there, and is probably the closest thing the chef Floorwalker has to a real friend.
> 
> Floor and Fire are both grouchy and squint a lot, so they share a lot of comfortable silences and Floorwalker often gives Fire bits of the ingredients from whatever they’re cooking.  
> also; Fire is dating another dragon named Pit, and Floorwalker is almost completely deaf.

Floorwalker placed the last few bowls from dinner into the metal crate, fitting them all in perfectly and quickly, cycles of daily practice making the motion second nature.

Pushing the filled crate into the closest forge, Floorwalker glanced over their shoulder at the only other dragon in the room. Fire was sitting next to the kitchen’s center pit, watching the flames slowly lower as the evening wore on. 

Floor wiped both hands down the front of their apron slowly. The silence wasn’t anything new, considering the sorry state of Floorwalkers crest, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t be overwhelming at times.

They watched Fire for a while as the noodle began to nod off by the hearth. Fire was....well, something else, and Floor appreciated the company more than they would let on.

The light from the various flames reflected off of the glasses perched on Fire’s head, and Floor felt something catch in their throat. Their breath sped up, and they pushed away from the counter, padding quietly to where Fire was sitting. 

Crouching down, Floor gave Fire’s arm a small poke. The spiral’s eyes opened immediately and his shoulders tensed. Realizing it was just the small chef, he relaxed and gave a small smile. Floor returned the tiny grin and the two chatted lightly.

Floor watched Fire talk, eventually becoming so fixated on his mouth that the movements stopped translating into words, nothing 

Floorwalker lunged forward, closing the small distance between them and pressing a hard, chaste kiss to Fire’s lips. Fire pulled back almost immediately, a strange look on his face, and for what seemed like an eternity the two stared at each other completely unmoving.

Floorwalker’s face twisted, turning extra red as they jumped up and clambered away, ducking behind a few barrels and crawling into the bottom cupboard hidden there. 

Stupid. _Stupid._ Floor tugged at their hair, tears prickling in the corner of their eyes. What kind of decision had that been? How could that have _ever_ been a good idea? Thoughts raced through their head, a litany of self-hatred and anger. 

The door to the cabinet creaked open a sliver and a hand reached gently in, coming to rest on Floor’s shoulder. The sudden pressure startled Floorwalker and they flinched violently, head swiveling to find the source.

Fire peered in at Floor, opening the door further. The two stared at each other, Fire intense and unmoving, Floorwalker taking shaky breaths, one hand still tangled in their hair.

Fire sighed and softened his expression. He gently grabbed Floor’s arm and squeezed. Floorwalker sniffed, “I’m sorry.”

Fire shook his head, “Don’t.” He took Floorwalker’s hand with his other, leaving a small smudge of soot. “It’s okay.”

Floorwalker shook their head, “It’s _not.”_

“It _is_.” He squeezed Floor’s arm again. “It is and we’re fine.”  


The coatl’s eyes were full of gratitude, and they smiled weakly. “Okay.” 

Fire let go of Floor’s arm and hand, patting their head gently before pulling away to stand. Floor sniffed again, waiting another few minutes before climbing out of the cupboard. 

Fire looked up as the chef walked slowly to the sink, wiping at their nose. Floor met Fire’s gaze and smiled weakly. 

_Stupid._


End file.
